Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: LoTR
Author: Lynsey
Websites and Mailing List: See links under user information
Beta: None
Chapter: 8/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel, Erestor/OC
Rating: R this chapter
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I do not make any money from this fiction.
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor learn to love each other after the events in “Tolerance.” One young elf realizes something about himself.


“Erestor?”

Corchvorn entered the darkened recovery room, scared and wary. Lord Elrond came behind him and guided the young elf by a gentle grip on his arm.

“He may not respond right away,” Elrond said quietly as they approached the bed. “Don’t give up.” Elrond let go of Corchvorn’s arm and ushered him toward the bed. The lord retreated a little ways but didn’t leave the room.

The brown haired boy took a few hesitant steps forward and stood uncertainly at the edge of the bed for several minutes. Elrond didn’t say anything and just let the youngster build up his courage to wake the sleeping elf.

“Erestor?” he asked again. He was quiet, like a child wanting to wake his parent but not wanting deal with their ire at being awakened. “Erestor…” he touched the pale hand lying on top of the blankets. It twitched, and Erestor’s face screwed up in discomfort as he woke. Large, dark eyes fluttered open.

Corchvorn smiled painfully. “Hey, there you are,” his voice was shaky, but he had honest happiness in his voice. The young warrior sat on the bed and grasped Erestor’s hand in his own. “I’ve been,” his voice cracked. He clenched his eyes closed and tried again. “I’ve been trying to see you. They wanted to wait until you healed a little more.”

Erestor blinked, but his eyes didn’t show much interest in what was going on around him. His hand was still and cold within Corchvorn’s.

The older boy cleared his throat. “I want you to know that I want to do right by you. I…well…after what we did…together…I…” he looked at Elrond with fear in his eyes.

Elrond nodded, urging him to continue.

Corchvorn turned back to Erestor. The darkling was still staring ahead blankly. “Could you please look at me? Please, Erestor?”

Dark eyes focused weakly on Corchvorn. The older boy smiled and stroked Erestor’s cheek fondly. “If you want to…” Corchvorn continued, “we could be together. It’s only right after…what we did. I’m willing to bond with you, if you want. I love you. I have loved you for a long time. I know…I know you love Glorfindel. But…I can make sure you’re loved and cared for. I’m so-” he choked on a sob, but forced himself to continue. “I’m so, so sorry. I know you might never love me like I love you, but I-”

“Yes.”

Corchvorn shook his head, not believing what he just heard. “Erestor?”

“Yes,” the darkling whispered, his voice crackly from disuse. “I’ll bond with you, Corchvorn.”

The brown haired boy’s mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to respond, but couldn’t quite form the words he wanted to say. Erestor smiled sadly, still not really there, but more awake than he’d been before.

Elrond was saddened by the fact that the youngster may never truly come back to them.

“Are you sure?” Corchvorn questioned. “You don’t have to decide right now. We can wait-”

“No. I’m sure.” Erestor’s voice, although raspy, was confident.

Corchvorn truly started crying then as he leaned down to scoop the smaller elf into his arms. He sobbed and made promises as he cuddled Erestor to him.

Elrond watched the scene, feeling proud and agonized all at once. They were both so young; Corchvorn just having reached his majority in the last year, and Erestor a few months from his own. Since it had come to light that Corchvorn hadn’t truly raped Erestor, and that Erestor had…basically broken the engagement with Glorfindel by laying with another, Elrond had thought it best for both boys to commit to each other. Sex out of bonding was taboo. Since the whole valley now knew what had happened…it would have been even more of a scandal than it already was if they didn’t commit to each other. When Elrond had approached Corchvorn with the idea, the youngster had immediately agreed. He truly loved Erestor, in the way only a youth can cherish his first love.

Erestor, Elrond knew, loved Glorfindel.

He only hopped Corchvorn’s love could be enough for both of them.

However, as the darkling looked over Corchvorn’s shoulder at the lord standing in the corner, Elrond knew that that may not be the case.

There might not be enough of Erestor’s soul left to love.

*****************

“Mom? Dad?” Corchvorn entered his home for the first time since the…incident. For the first several days, he had been contained within the holding cells the Last Homely House boasted for minor criminals and bandits. After he had been released, he stayed within a guest room set aside for him by Lord Elrond, as he had been too ashamed to return home or stay in the barracks.

“Baby?” Corchvorn’s mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a stained apron. She smiled and rushed towards him. “Baby boy, it’s good to see you-”

“Stay away from him.” His mother stopped abruptly. Her eyes turned from hopeful and bright to resigned in an instant. His father also exited from the kitchen to stand by his wife. “What are you doing here, boy?”

Corchvorn wanted to shrink away, to run and hide from the veiled threat in his father’s voice and posture. However, he straightened his shoulders and held his head high. He was going to be a bound man soon. It wouldn’t do to act as a scorned child any more.

“I came to tell you that Erestor and I are being bound by Lord Elrond. The ceremony will take place as soon as,” he hesitated, “Erestor is stronger. I wanted you to know that you are welcome to attend.”

His father frowned. “I will not be a part of something so unholy.”

“But-” Corchvorn’s mother started, her gaze pleading.

“No,” he was firm. “We can’t do anything to stop this…union from taking place, but we can damn well show our disapproval of it.” He glowered at his son. “I raised you better than this.”

“And look where it got me,” Corchvorn replied steadily, but he was truly quivering inside with grief at his parent’s rejection.

His father sputtered with indignation. Storming forward, he belted his son across the face. “I’ll not have you speak to me thus in my home. Get your things and get your tainted body out of here.”

Corchvorn managed to catch himself on the couch before he could fall. He pressed his hand to his bleeding mouth and used his tongue to count his teeth. Coughing a little as blood seeped down his throat, he nodded and trudged down the hallway to this room.

He shut the door and leaned against it for a minute to let the dizziness his father’s punch had caused. Sighing with a little hitch of a sob, Corchvorn moved over to the wash stand. His mother, Valar bless her, had kept water in the pitcher for him. The boy cleaned his face and hands as well as he could of the blood. It didn’t take him long to pack what he needed. Anything else could be fetched at a later date. Clothes, personal items, and a few precious belongings were stowed in travel packs and a makeshift bag he made out of the sheet from his bed.

Lugging everything down the hallway and out the door, Corchvorn didn’t stop to say goodbye as he exited the home he had resided in for fifty years.

It was time to begin a new life. He had a fiancé to see to, a home to establish.

It was time to grow up.

***************************

Elrond acquired the two younglings a tiny cottage situated amongst a small pocket of similar homes. The little houses were meant for those that preferred their own homes to living in the massive House. This particular cluster was dedicated to the gentle farmers and gardeners that cared for the Home and farmed the produce that could be grown locally.

A small bedroom and washroom were attached to a main room that served as kitchen, dining room and living room. They had their own tiny plot outside the front door to plant a garden, and underneath the house was the cold larder for food storage. They even had a penned in area if they wanted to keep a few chickens or a goat.

It wasn’t much, but it was theirs. Corchvorn hoped that the quaint little cottage could become a place for Erestor to heal.

Corchvorn would start working to support both he and Erestor. Elrond had arranged for the lad to work as a courier. He knew that Corchvorn would have preferred to continue training as a warrior, but considering the circumstances and that Glorfindel was the commander of Elrond’s forces, the Lord had decided on a career that the boy could earn some money at without putting him in an awkward position. Since Corchvorn had some training as a warrior, he would be able to protect himself while running missives to and from Imladris. Not a perfect solution, but it was better than could be hoped for in these tragic circumstances.

The day that Erestor was released from the Healing Ward, the boy had walked like a ghost from the healing rooms to the council chambers where he and Corchvorn had said their bonding vows. Lord Elrond and the witnesses, elders of the council, had looked upon the young couple with sadness.

Corchvorn refused to look at the pitying elders and focused instead on Erestor. The darkling sat quietly in the chair they had lowered in him into, staring at nothing. He was so thin, so delicate looking that Corchvorn almost feared to take his hand, lest the fragile being shatter beneath his grip.

Before, Erestor had always seemed so strong to him. Even when Corchvorn and his friends had tormented and beaten upon him, Erestor had always come out of every scuffle stronger. The younger boy had a stubborn way about him that had at once irritated and enthralled him. Corchvorn had never understood what it was about the darkling that drew him so, but he knew with all his heart that he loved him. Whatever strife was in their past, it was gone now.

As the elders tied the binding ribbons around their hands, Corchvorn looked into Erestor’s dark, lost eyes. Despite appearances to the contrary, Corchvorn understood what he was getting into. He knew. Erestor may never be the same. Once an elf’s soul is torn apart, it is a rare thing indeed for that soul to once again become whole.

However, he did not want to doom the one he loved to a half-life alone. This way, whatever soul Erestor had left could know it was loved. It may not be the love of his beloved Glorfindel, but it was better than nothing as far as Corchvorn was concerned.

He would do the best he could.

Corchvorn guided his new husband into their home. Erestor looked around uncertainly. So much had changed in the last few days. He wasn’t even of age yet, and here he was in a new home with his new husband.

A husband that wasn’t Glorfindel.

Glorfindel was lost to him, all because he couldn’t control his hormonal urges.

A surge of painful grief threatened to erupt, but Erestor ruthlessly shoved every feeling deep down inside of himself. Sighing when the disinterested numbness ruled again, he blinked slowly at his surroundings. Corchvorn was speaking to him, but he didn’t make an effort to comprehend what the other boy said.

It didn’t take much to deduce where the bedroom was. Erestor walked slowly into the room, followed by a concerned Corchvorn. The darkling lay down on the bed, shivering with exertion and the effort of containing his feelings.

Corchvorn lovingly pulled a warm blanket over Erestor and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll make you something warm to eat. How does stew sound? That should be gentle on your stomach.”

“That’s fine. Thank you,” Erestor whispered in response.

This would never be the life he had wanted, but Erestor had enough of himself left to hope that he could make Corchvorn happy, if nothing else.

*********************

“I am surprised you have returned to your studies already, Erestor,” Elrond commented as he came upon the young elf in a remote corner of the library. A large number of tomes where piled on the desk in front of him, while others were open to various pages.

The young elf looked remotely startled for a moment, before his usual mask of disinterest fell across his face. “Good day, my Lord,” he greeted the elder politely. “It is not so strenuous a thing to study. No use falling behind.” Erestor neatly shuffled the parchment his notes were written on.

Elrond nodded and sat himself in an empty chair at Erestor’s table. “Would you like to return to work, or are you still feeling fatigued?”

“I believe that I am feeling well enough to work in the library again, my Lord,” Erestor nodded graciously. He kept his eyes down, having learned quickly that many were made uncomfortable by the blank, soulless look in them.

“As long as you are sure, child.”

“I am, sire.”

Elrond inclined his head. “Report to my office the beginning of next week. I want you to be trained as my personal assistant.”

Erestor raised his eyes from the table, to peer hesitantly at the older elf. “I…are you sure…?”

The small, miniscule sparkling of hope in the darkling’s eyes made Elrond smile. “Of course.”

The delicate, porcelain face lost the inkling of excitement in moments. “You’re not just doing this because…you feel sorry for me?”

The lord chuckled. “No. No, no. I have been grooming you to become my assistant since the day you could work calculus problems faster than I. Which, if I remember right, was when you were ten.” Elrond smiled in fond remembrance. “You have always had one of the most spectacular minds I have ever seen. It would be a waste of brilliance to have you filing books for the rest of your life.”

“But…I, I’m not-”

“Brilliant? Child, you rival any mathematician I have ever seen. You reorganized the entire library organizational system before you were thirty. Your studies have surpassed mine when I was…well…much older than you.”

Erestor sat quietly, digesting that. “I…I never realized…that I was…different.”

“You were too busy worrying about your other differences.”

“I guess…I guess I was.”

Elrond watched Erestor for a few moments. The boy looked utterly bewildered. He never really had another colleague to compare himself to. The fact that he was a prodigy had never crossed his mind.

“I’ll see you soon, then?”

The dazed boy nodded slowly.

“Good day, child.”

“Good day, my Lord.”

Maybe it would be a good day, after all.

TBC…